A King's Wizard
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: Ignis deals with the Crown Prince's plans for a Halloween party, all the while dealing with his impending nuptials to the Countess Marilynn. Emotions bite more than gravel to the skin. If you listen closely enough, deep inside the little box where Ignis hides his feelings away from prying eyes, you can hear him screaming. Ignoct (The Heaven of Cut Stars verse, part 2)
1. Chapter 1

A King's Wizard

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Summary: Ignis deals with the Crown Prince's plans for a Halloween party, all the while dealing with his impending nuptials to the Countess Marilynn. Emotions bite more than gravel to the skin. If you listen closely enough, deep inside the little box where Ignis hides his feelings away from prying eyes, you can hear him screaming.

A story of love and dreams, but also of the frailty of hope.

Author Notes: Hi, guys! This is part of what I have labeled as "The Heaven of Cut Stars" universe. Basically, Ignoct and all the happy and sad moments of their lives. _Sacramentum_ is also part of this universe, so check that one out as well.

Warning: In this particular section, be aware there is slight mentions of blood and injuries, as well as mentions of slight self-harm (no one is suicidal, mostly it is Ignis purposely making his injuries worse.)

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"No, Noctis. I can't wear this."

Ignis pushed up his glasses sharply and glared at the clothing Noctis was holding. The colors were stark against his pale arms, the purple like a bruise across the top of his skin. The fabric looked soft, he could at least admit to that; Noctis, if nothing else, knew that when he ordered this from his father's tailor that it would be only the best products. He could even see that the fabric looked quite similar to his favorite purple shirt, the leopard printing faint but noticeable.

It was studded with flowers, little blackholes that sucked in all of the surrounding color. The detail of the stitching and embroidery was impeccable, with a sweetness that that would have made a woman weep. How many hours were spent on the pale gray border to be so perfectly measured? Even the hemming was stitched together by what must have been the love of a true professional.

And no, he was not going to wear it.

"It's my Halloween gala. Everyone will be wearing costumes, and I got my father to agree to let us do something different. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to let me do anything?" Ignis could hear Noctis's pleading, though the crown prince would never admit to daring to plead. It was plebeian and far below his station. "C'mon, Iggy. This is going to be hilarious."

"I already told Marilynn I would be attending the gala with her as my partner. We picked out our costumes yesterday."

Noctis's mouth pulled down into a frown. " _Oh._ "

Ignis looked back at the fabric in Noctis's arms and then back at the black-haired prince. "I asked you last week if it would be acceptable."

And he had; Noctis had given the same look then as he sported now. It reminded Ignis of what Noctis looked like while sucking on a lemon when they were children, trying to figure out the perfect ingredients to making a Tenebrae tart.

"I figured she wouldn't really come." There was something missing from what Noctis said, and Ignis tried to fill in the hole. What exactly did he want to add? Noctis, as of late, left more words out than he put it. It was like filling in a white puzzle with half of the pieces missing. How was he supposed to read what the prince wanted to say?

"I'm sorry." Ignis did not know what he was apologizing for, but he knew that the answer would not assuage Noctis, not when he was in a mood like this. "Would you like me to cancel?"

Of course, Marilynn would be upset, but she would no doubt accept it as what it was. Marilynn and Noctis had only met on a few formal occasions, her arm tucked in Ignis's as they danced the expected dances and he twirled her around as she laughed. Noctis kissed her knuckles and she had frowned, because of course she knew. They had known each other for years, though she was only a casual acquaintance of the prince. It was perhaps that reason why Noctis was so blasé about Ignis's courting.

Marilynn was a sweet girl with a heart-shaped face and almond brown eyes, her body more plump than most, but it suited Ignis just fine. She was sweet and mild-tempered, and a Countess of her own right. And, most importantly, she understood him. Ignis was sure that sweet Marilynn understood part of him better than any person on Eos... even the prince.

Most certainly better than the prince.

"If you want to bring her, it's fine. I just forgot, that's all. Whatever, just forget it; Gladio and Prompto and I will figure something else out." Noctis smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It was a good attempt, but Ignis knew every facet of his friend's behavior. There was something more to this silly little gala than Noctis wanted to admit to, something about the night that made Noctis seem so despondent.

"And yet you are clearly disappointed." Ignis could read it on the planes of Noctis's cheeks, the manner in which he clicked his tongue, how the syllables seemed to conjoin in an amalgamation of sound without meaning. It was the same way Noctis spoke when his father broke a promise.

Noctis laughed, the sound just a little too high. "Nah, nah. Iggy, it's fine. I'm sure she wants to see the place decorated. Dad said we could use the West Wing of the Citadel..."

Ignis smiled, the whisper of happiness running its hands over his mouth. He knew how important the silly party was to Noctis; they had spoken of it for weeks, creating the plans to go over with the Kingsglaive as well as the king himself. It had been a chore on top of school and his extracurriculars, one in which he had done with very little additional help. Of course, Gladio would chime in about safety precautions while Prompto reined in Noctis whenever he tried to go overboard with the funding... which happened quite often. It was a miracle that Prompto had shown more maturity with money than Noctis, but not too surprising.

The entire kingdom would be his, one day... what were a few gil?

"You did a job well done here, your Highness," Ignis said, letting the words drift over the prince's bedroom.

Noctis balled up the costume and threw it in the original box on his bed. The papers as well as the fabric were sticking out, but he didn't seem to be phased, instead shoving the sleeve and some of the leather back into the box before slamming the cover down just a little harder than Ignis thought necessary. "What're you gunna come as?" He asked as he picked up the box and tossed it unceremoniously under his bed. He then threw himself down on the messy sheets and stared up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his forehead.

Ignis looked at the corner of the purple satin sticking out from under the bed and cross his arms before leaning on the doorframe. "She wants us to go as Leviathan and Bahamut."

Noctis snorted but tried to cover up the sound by turning his head. "Sounds like a real love story right there."

Ignis knew it was best not to fight with his friend. It was beginning to wear on him more than he admitted, knowing that whatever was going on in Noctis's head was causing the more caustic side to emerge like an angry behemoth. The last thing Ignis wanted was to set him off; Noctis was brash and impulsive and would no doubt regret the words as they rolled off his tongue. But that was Noctis, and it was better to avoid the vitriol in the first place.

"Noctis, if you want to talk about anything, please let me know. You are my closest friend, and I don't like seeing you so..." Ignis could not think of a word that really described what Noctis looked like at that moment. Righteous fury and childish petulance and an unbounding sadness that squirmed inside of Ignis's gut, deep in the box where he put all of his secret thoughts.

"Dude, I am fine. Just bring your girlfriend and wear your cute little costume-"

"Fiancée." Ignis swallowed hard and Noctis seemed to freeze on the bed before bolting up, snapping his head to the side.

"Say what."

Ignis purses his lips and uncrossed his arms before putting them in his pockets, then back across his chest. "I proposed yesterday; we are thinking of a spring wedding. Marilynn loves the flowers-" Ignis knew, in that secret box where he hid his feelings exactly what this was. Quick and precise, like a surgical tool. Cut out the tumor before it had the chance to grow. Pull the weed out by the root and make sure to salt the earth when he was done.

" _Oh._ " Ignis wasn't sure if it was a word, a curse, a sigh or even just the faint blow of the wind.

"Our fathers agreed it would be best, since I graduated from my intensive courses over the summer. Your father... he approves of the match. We believe it better to finish the nuptials before your graduation. In that case, we will be able to enjoy a brief honeymoon before you begin your university studies."

"Yeah. Honeymoon. University. Yeah." Ignis could hear the words from Noct's mouth, but it was like listening to a robot. The color left prince's face the same way it left his words. "Uh, I think I need to take a shower. You know where the door is." Noctis scrambled off his bed and toward the door, his hands tight at his sides. Ignis could see the skin on the sides of his hands turn purple, the same shade of the fabric he had been holding and laughing about just a few minutes before... now it was thrown in a box, hidden away from sight.

"Congrats, Iggy." Noctis looked up into his eyes, deep blue like the fathomless night sky. "I am sure it'll be a beautiful wedding." He leaned his head up to look deeper, and it was hard for Ignis to grab his emotions and pull down, further and further into the box. The box was as fathomless as Noctis's eyes.

"Thank you."

Noctis pulled back and nodded his head twice before pulling his top lip between his teeth. "Yeah."

He pushed by and quickly shut the door to the bathroom, Ignis hearing the tell-tale click of the lock.

He knew when he was no longer wanted.

Ignis spared one last look at the purple fabric on Noctis's floor before clicking off the light and closing the door.

He made quick work through the living room and kitchen, careful to avoid leaving any trace of himself where he knew he was not wanted. Ignis thought of the pastries on the kitchen table, but opted against moving them or hiding him. The last thing he wanted was Noctis to think he had forgotten; the fragility of that moment next to his bedroom door had set Ignis on edge.

By the time he made it out of the prince's apartment, his hands were sweaty and it took several passes on his pants to wipe away the feeling of treachery. Even his own damn body betrayed him, though this was nothing new to Ignis. He suffered a thousand nights, and he would suffer a hundred thousand more.

When he reached for his car door, his hand slipped and Ignis felt his body going down before his mind could catch up. His legs felt like jelly under him, and he could not keep himself up. He threw out his hands and felt the gravel dig in, feeling his knees pulling open and the sudden sting of air exiting his lungs. He could only let out half a laugh, half a cry as he pulled his hand from under him, staring down at the black dots and bloody reds mixing together. It reminded him of the pictures of the galaxies above, so far away.

His chest was tight and it was hard to breathe, and Ignis could not accept that; this was weakness that he could not take. Blood on his hands, on the ground, on his tongue.

Ignis reached out and grabbed the handle, using it to pull himself up. He didn't care that the pieces of the ground dug in deeper to his hands, that it would only make it more painful come sunrise. This pain, this pain centered him, ripped him out of vertigo. He was sure he would find the smear of blood on the door tomorrow and remember foolishness, absurdity, painful promises and the endless abyss.

This was not how he planned that event. This was not what he wanted.

This was not right.

Ignis sat in the front seat with his hands curled around the steering wheel until the blood made its way down his wrists and to his elbows. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but he did know that when he finally managed to pull himself together long enough to wipe the blood from his thumb to press on his smartphone's button and call Gladio, he could feel the congealing mess in his jacket. This was not him, this was not Ignis.

" _What_?"

"I told Noctis of the upcoming nuptials." Ignis hissed as he hit speakerphone on his phone and laid it on his lap.

The other end went quiet, before there was the sound of a scratching of metal against metal. " _Where are you_?"

"Still in the garage."

" _Panic attack? How bad off are you_?"

Ignis looked down at his hands. "Perhaps it would be best if you drove me home. I could do it, but..." Yet that scratch of metal was louder than Gladio's voice, and the sheer existence of their phone call did the same for Ignis. This had far less to do with bloody hands.

" _Gimme ten minutes. Don't do anything stupid._ "

Ignis wanted to snort, but he didn't feel like he had the energy in his body. It was as though all of it bled out on the floor in Noct's bedroom. But he pushed it down into his box and simply stared out the windshield. "I fell, it was an accident."

Gladio didn't say anything on the other end of the line but Ignis closed his eyes and listened to the sound of quick steps and then the revving of an engine. " _So, I'm guessing he punched you in the face and you just let him do it_?"

If his hands weren't bleeding, Ignis would have rubbed his temples. "No, Gladio. He... he just congratulated me."

The other end of the line went quiet and then a sharp, " _Oh._ "

Ignis winced. "If you would, please don't say that. He said the same."

 _"This is bad, Iggy. You know that he is in love with yo-"_

Ignis hit the 'End Call' button and rested his wrists on the steering wheel. It would be dangerous to speak with his friend while driving; Gladio knew better. He was tempted to call Marilynn, but knew that this would only upset her.

She knew the crown prince would come before her-it was something that her father had both valued and detested, for it meant a closeness to the Caelum family that surpassed the council. The Future King of Lucis's most trusted advisor as a son-in-law was too much of a blessing, never mind the whispers of the curse of the Lucii. Count Jasius Kaldros was not an evil man; he loved his daughter and only wished the best for her. And in Insomnia, where blood was more important than happiness, it meant a soft girl in a Leviathan costume clinging to the arm of a fraud.

He was tired. It had been a long day, from the moment he woke at five thirty to prepare for the early morning of policy and political maneuvering. There were trade deals to be signed, notes to be taken, and he needed to understand the ins and outs of every paper on the king's desk. Those papers were Noct's future, their future.

At lunch, he spent a scant hour with Marilynn in the courtyard. She had made him a lunch of sandwiches and Ignis smiled despite chewing on a piece of egg shell that he found in his egg salad. He said nothing about it to the woman picking at her own sandwich, giving more of it to the birds than putting in her own mouth. It was worth something that she tried; it wasn't her fault that Ignis was more of a cook than she was. And there was always time to learn.

After, it was back to work, then baking more Tenebrae tarts, though he knew it would never be quite right for Noctis, but he was willing to try either way. It was not the tarts; it was never about the tarts.

It was about promises and bottomless abysses and desperation. It was loneliness and need.

It was about that box under Noctis's bed and the one inside of Ignis's soul, the one he locked up and hid away.

Thankfully, Gladio was faster than Ignis thought possible; he was tapping on the window and saving Ignis's mind from wrapping itself into knots.

Ignis raised his hand to pull open the latch, but when Gladio saw the blood, he pulled it open himself.

"Jeez, you sure did do a number on yourself," Gladio muttered as he held the door open for Ignis to climb out. "What the hell did you do, grab a knife and go to town?"

"I assure you, it looks far worse than it is. It was a simple fall." And it had been, but digging in the gravel to feel something other than the stabbing pain in parts of him that he didn't want to talk about... this was more Noctis's territory. "I think it is best to just drive me home."

"Iggy, it's fine, I get it." Gladio shut the door to the car and looked over to Ignis. "Keys?"

"My pocket," Ignis made a gesture with his left shoulder. "You can lock it. I'll have the Glaive pick it up in the morning."

Gladio leaned forward and ran his hand over the pocket before plunking out the keys, hitting the lock button before putting them back where they belonged. "Yeah, yeah, you can just sleep on my couch and I'll give you a ride back in the morning."

"You do remember what time I wake in the morning?"

The bulky man's nose twitched. "Yeah, you and your obsession with being up at the ass crack of dawn." Ignis would have smiled, but he couldn't even force his mouth into a frown. It was too much. "Here, lemme get the door for you."

Ignis looked at his friend and remembered the first time they met, when they were children so many years ago. Both were given the same task to the future king-the sword and shield, the promise of children who would bleed for their friend, die for their king. And both took their jobs so seriously, like toy soldiers prepared for war.

"I made a mistake, Gladio." Ignis closed his hands and dug his nails into his palms.

Gladio's face softened, and the stubble on his cheek stood out against his tan skin. "You didn't make a mistake. You can't control this kind of shit, Iggy, so don't mope. Let's just get you home and fix that pulp you call your hands. Get in." He held the door open and Ignis slid into the black Audi, taking care not to touch anything. Gladio loved his car just as much as King Regis loved the Regalia.

"Want me ta buckle you up, too?" Gladio laughed after getting in on the other side.

"Unless you prefer blood on your car," Ignis deadpanned as he looked at his longtime friend. "Your choice, Gladio."

The other man rolled his eyes and reached over, securely snapping the belt into place. "Just lean back. You want me to call Marilynn? She always seems to know how to calm you down best."

Ignis shook his head. No, he didn't want to look at Marilynn right now. And, of course, the Glaive with her would certainly not want to see him.

"I think he's with her tonight. I... I don't want to intrude. She's doing more than her share, it isn't fair to take away her scant amount of freedom."

"I guess I'm lucky my old man doesn't care who I marry as long as I don't knock them up before there's a ring on their finger." Gladio started the engine and slowly drove the car forward. They drove up through the garage, past the rows of what seemed to be the same car, and it was only when they reached the top that Ignis realized that he did not want to look into the sky.

Ignis felt the pull at his chest again; this was weakness that he couldn't accept. Why was this happening now?

"Hey, hey, Iggy. Just breathe. I know you are all for that "bottling up emotions" shtick but I don't wanna scrub a puddle of goo off my upholstery when you finally blow."

There was a hint of humor in his friend's tone, a hint that only made Ignis feel worse. Since when had the facade cracked and the scared little boy crawled out?

 _"Oh."_

Yes, that moment when Ignis could no longer hide what he had known deep in his heart for years. He ignored the comments and jeers from Gladio, the soft inquisitive glances from Marilynn, even the occasional comment from the King himself, who sat upon his throne of skull and bone and blood.

Such a simple word with the grace of a sledge hammer.

Ignis stared at the curve of the road and up into the sky, frowning at the slight ripple of the new wall. It didn't entirely block out the stars, but it was much more difficult to see than it had been during their childhoods. In those days, before Noctis had fallen into a coma, they could see the brilliance of each galaxy and nebula with a clarity that would make even a goddess weep. Now, the sky was touched with a hint of hazy pink magic that reminded him of dawn. Most of the other inhabitants of Insomnia noticed no difference, but Ignis could. He spent far too much time cradled inside the walls of the Citadel, watching the glow from the crystal against marble floors and stone walls waiting until his most cherished friend woke. Perhaps the haze always had been there, but Ignis woke when Noctis did.

"Iggy... how long?"

Ignis was roused from his thoughts and turned to his longtime friend. He knew what the other was asking and part of him didn't want to answer. But he did anyway, because it was long past the point of hiding.

"You remember the trip to the seaside? It must have been... four years ago?"

If Gladio didn't remember, Ignis would have understood. It wasn't a particularly eventful trip; the king assigned Cor and Clarus to accompany the crown prince to the little hideaway between the wall and the barest stretch of golden sand. It was a place that was open to the public, but the King had a secluded swath of land that was just for Imperial use. Typically, the area was left with only the looming wall fifty meters above their heads and the birds of prey picking away at the fish littering the shoreline. What better place was there for celebrating the crown prince's birthday?

They spent the day in the sun and sand, one of the few times that Ignis could remember in his childhood of where there were no requirements or expectations. They wanted to camp under the stars that night, something that surprised Ignis at first. Noctis wasn't one for outdoors, and even less for a place which meant that he would be away from his bed, but that night he had smiled and ate his half-burned hot dogs with too much mustard and no vegetables. After, they had set up camp and while Cor, Clarus and Gladio did mock fights in the waning light of the sunset, Ignis taught Noctis of the stars.

It wasn't like Noctis hadn't already learned the information in his classes, yet... There was a big difference between learning from the textbooks and seeing.

It was hard to see the pinpricks against the skyline, but Ignis had glided his fingers across the heavens, one arm rested behind his head to help lift his head up as he explained.

Noctis's warm body was next to his, their bony hips clinking into one another every time they moved and adjusted or pointed into the sky. They stayed there even after the others had decided to call it a night, though Ignis was more and more aware of the way Cor and Clarus watched Noctis as the two teenagers tried to sleep.

There was nothing untoward about the night, but at one point Noctis starfished out and grabbed hold of Ignis's pajamas. The prince curled in on him, never once allowing his hand to relax. Ignis could not say if it was the way Noct's hair flared around his head like a halo of darkness, the little smile as he nestled closer into Ignis's side, or even the way that the stars above seemed to bless them with a meteor shower that seemed to take up the entire expanse of skyline. But it was then that Ignis looked down upon his closest friend, his king, and knew that this was the person he was destined to live for, to die for.

Gladio didn't respond, instead continuing the drive down the narrowing city road. The sky was now dotted by sky scrapers, blocking out the pink-tinged sky.

Ignis tried to not move his hands, but it was easier said than done. His lungs felt like he breathed in a burning coal and his entire head swam with smoke. This all was too much for him. He shoved it down into the box to keep himself together.

The ride wasn't long, maybe only fifteen minutes, but Ignis felt ever twist and turn and little bump on the road. His body wanted him to feel it, to remember it.

Life was cruel.

They made it back to Gladio's apartment and his friend did not allow him to open the door then, either. It was like a never ending walk of shame, Ignis's hands a penance for his words, the sham of a life he was living. He could feel the doors staring down at him with their judgement, and he could not fault them.

Gladio's apartment was nowhere near as bad as Noctis's, thank Shiva. There was camping equipment sprawled out through the living room, a lamp on the kitchen table with its innards showing, a pair of muddy boots kicked off hidden behind the door. A scent wafted from the kitchen, a half-eaten sandwich on the counter with a full size bag of chips cracked open next to it, spilling greasy potato chips onto the wooden top. Still, there were no dirty dishes in the sink and Ignis knew that there were no insects crawling under piles of clothes. And, he allowed himself a little smile, no Cup of Noodles.

"Sit down somewhere, get comfy. This next part's gunna be a bitch."

Ignis did not remove his jacket, knowing that doing so would expose just how much blood he had spilled for such a selfish and pitiful reason, so he knocked off his shoes and held out his hands, slowly sitting down on the brown leather couch tucked into the corner of the room, a little wooden table in casual disarray right in front of it. Gladio disappeared into the bathroom but emerged soon enough with a towel slung over his shoulder, a bottle of potion in one hand and a set of tweezers in the other.

"Gotta clean those hands first," he apologized as he set the things on the kitchen table and went to the sink. Gladio grabbed a silver bowl from next to the sink and hit the tap's hot water, sticking two fingers under to check the temperature. When it was to his liking, he filled the bowl and turned off the tap. "Stick your hands in this for a few minutes."

Ignis held out his hands further. "Roll my sleeves, please. May as well not make a complete mess of myself." But he knew it was too late for that, though Gladio acquiesced.

"You fucked up your knee, too."

Ignis could feel it, but it was hardly a pressing matter in comparison to his hands. He only hummed in response and slipped his hands into the warm water. That hum became a hiss, and the water filled with blood and an assortment of gravel and grime.

"Too hot?" Gladio asked, but Ignis only shrugged a shoulder.

"It is fine."

Gladio frowned and then took off his own jacket, placing it on the leather couch next to Ignis. He then reached over the little table and fiddled for a moment before pulling out a small black lighter, passing over the tips of the tweezers a few times before dousing it in potion. It was peculiar to watch the sickly colored liquid spray onto the carpet.

Gladio sat down on the floor and then reached out his hand. "C'mon, give it here. Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't fall for that crap. You don't scare me."

Ignis scowled.

This only made Gladio laugh harder. "Gimme your hand, I promise I won't fuck it up any worse than you already have."

Ignis looked into the warm, bloody water and finally pulled it out; feeling the air hit his skin made the pain that much more real. He fought to not make a sound as Gladio flipped his hand over, exposing his palms.

Gladio whistled. "This is a mess."

Ignis looked down at his hand, unsurprised to see the fluffy pink and white of the fat and muscle exposed. He watched as Gladio lifted the tweezers to one of the pieces of gravel deeply imbedded in the tissue, and bit back a hiss as he pulled.

They did this for several minutes until Gladio was pleased enough that both hands were as good as they were going to get, and then opened the potion bottle. "This is gunna sting," he apologized, but Ignis was well past the point of caring.

It was always a bizarre feeling, the way that the potion met skin and sizzled, then knitted the skin and muscles back together into a perfect imitation of what it once was. And it was an imitation-Ignis could no longer see the scar that was on his palm from a few months ago when had had grabbed a still-hot tray from the top of the kitchen table. It had burned right through, and yet now there wasn't so much as a blemish. Even the little beauty mark between his left thumb and forefinger were lost, gone to the magic.

"Lemme see your knee," Gladio said and reached for Ignis's belt. He pulled at the skull buckle and the leather fell lose from Ignis's hips.

"Stop it, Gladio."

Gladio looked up and frowned. "Iggy, I need to check your leg. I ain't gunna do anything to ya, we got over that a long time ago."

And it was true. It was barely even what Ignis would consider a fling, or even a short fire. It burned itself out before it could really begin, two friends trying to figure out sex and emotion that was meant for others. But in this state, with pushing all of his emotions into that little box hidden deep inside, Ignis did not want anyone, even one of his closest friends, to touch him. It didn't matter that they had sex before, that all of his intimate parts had been seen, that even his own hands had betrayed him and shown its weakness to Gladio in the form of mangled pink and white.

Ignis said nothing, but whatever Gladio saw on his face was enough for the other man to back off, letting go of the buckle. "Okay then. Let's not do that. Gotcha."

Ignis did not even notice that his back was as stiff as it was until Gladio sat up and patted him on the back. With those few hand movements, Ignis nearly curled in on himself. "You are a fucking mess, Iggy. You need ta figure this out or it's gunna eat you alive."

Ignis felt the pain in his knee and the feeling of too smooth skin on his hands. "It is easier to say things like that than actually do so."

Gladio shrugged and picked up the bowl of bloody water and empty potion, dropping both into the sink. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe you and he will just get over it and fuck each other's brains out."

"It isn't simply carnal pleasure, Gladiolus," Ignis began, but Gladio cut him off.

"You don't need to tell me. You are getting married, he's gunna get married, everyone is going to be miserable. Well, except for me. I'm going to be stuck mopping the two of you dumbasses up every time you get into a fight. Yeah-you know what, we're all going to be fucking miserable." He hit the water and blasted the bowl and potion bottle. "Until the two of you get your shit together."

Ignis lifted one hand to his glasses and pushed them up. Now he could feel the jacket sticking to his skin, and it made his stomach churn. "My clothes-"

"Yeah, yeah, in the closet. It's not the only thing camping out in there."

Ignis ignored his friend, standing and then wincing when he looked down at his knee. There was a hole in his pants, but it wasn't too big. It would be fine.

"I got more potion you can have when you get out."

"Thank you."

Gladio shook his head. "Just go clean yourself up. You can sleep on the couch tonight, I'll drive you back to get your car in the morning."

Ignis could only nod, and only stopped when Gladio put his hand on his shoulder. "You'll get through this, Iggy. You always will."

Ignis did not respond to the comment, instead turning to look at the taller man. "What was Noctis wanting to dress up as?"

Gladio frowned. "He told you about that, eh?" Gladio reached up and patted his hair. "He had this crazy idea about dressing up as the characters from King's Knight, like we did when we were kids. We were going to sucker Prompto into a dragon suit, since we were pretty sure his dad wouldn't want to do it again this year. He got the tailors to make you some amazing robes for your costume... guess those aren't gunna get used this year."

Ignis remembered the purple fabric against Noctis's hand, the way it smoothly ran like tears on the floor. "Unfortunately, no."

And yet he would dress as Bahamut, and Noctis would dress as Toby, because they both needed to play their parts. He would not get to be Kaliva, not anymore.

Childhood was over, and with it foolish dreams.

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	2. Chapter 2

Warning: Noctis is a little asshole in the beginning. Seriously, drunk and angry Noctis is a massive asshole; he knows it, and soon everyone will know it.

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"Well, it's good you bothered to show up."

Noctis was drunk.

No, more than drunk, Noctis was _plastered_. It was that woozy point where Noctis knew he had crossed the edge and probably should have stopped after his fourth shot-or was it fifth? And did the two beers he had downed before really count? He was sure if he asked Prompto, the blond would just snicker and hand him a bucket to puke in, just in case.

He could still stand, which meant he wasn't that far gone, but just enough not to give a shit for decorum. Decorum was for idiots who congratulated the one they loved on their upcoming wedding. Decorum was for dumb chumps.

And Noctis knew he was a dumb chump. More than that, he was a liar.

Noctis looked down at his outfit, pulling at the green scarf wrapped around his neck. It was driving him nuts, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it... mostly because Prompto had pinned it in the back to his shirt, that way he had a barrier between his breath and whoever was in front of him.

Of course Prompto had tried to get him to go without the liquor, but when Noctis had deadpanned that Ignis was bringing his fiancée... well, Prom may as well have handed him the bottle himself.

So here he stood, reeking of alcohol, barely teetering on the edge of sanity and vomiting, with Ignis and his ugly bitch of a soon to be bride.

There was nothing special about her. She was fat and boring and ugly. It was bullshit. She was bullshit. Everything about her, from her downcast eyes to her pudgy cheeks to her pale blue dress that was cut like a damn oracle gown-since when was she a prude?- made Noctis want to scream.

Marilynn was the enemy, or so Drunk-Noctis surmised.

Drunk-Noctis was no one's friend. And, in particular, Drunk-Noctis was not Noctis's friend.

Noctis blinked at the slob and Ignis and then rolled his eyes. "You two look... stupid."

Marilynn sucked in a breath and quickly put on one of the fakest smiles Noctis had ever seen; who did she think she was fooling? There wasn't anything cute about it. "Your Highness, thank you for the invitation. The party looks wonderful." She curtsied and then placed her hand on Ignis's arm. Who did she think she was putting her hands all over him, right in front of Noctis?

" _You_ weren't invited."

"Noctis; that is incredibly rude."

Noctis rolled his eyes. "Sure, Iggy." He turned his back to the couple, fighting the nausea back. He tried to remember the exact order of the drinks he had already downed, but things were a little bit fuzzy around the edges. "Food is over there. Try not to eat it all."

Noctis tried to turn but found that someone had grabbed him by the wrist and was pulling him across the party floor, past dozens of colorful guests who were all laughing and smiling and the colors were bleeding into one another to create a hideous monster in front of him.

"Noctis, what is wrong with you?" Oh, not a monster. Just Prom.

"Take off the... the... thing." Noctis motioned for the costume head. "You gunna eat me or sumthin'?"

Prompto' hair was slicked back and stuck to his forehead, but not even that could explain why he mouth was drawn in such a deep frown. "How drunk are you?"

"Dunno. A lot?"

Prompto pushed the monster head under his arm and swept his hand across his brow. "Obviously! You can't talk to Ignis's girlfriend like that! You invited her, remember?"

Noctis shrugged and adjusted his belt. "Not like I wanted to-"

But Prom shook his head. "Doesn't matter! You told me he even asked if it was okay! Twice!"

"Not like I could tell him no."

"Duh. That is the point of asking for permission-"

"It doesn't work like that, Prom. You know it, I know it, we all know it." Noctis found his voice raising and he didn't care who was listening. Who cared? It was his party and he could throw a fit if he wanted to. "He's gunna marry her no matter what I say."

Prom looked down at his monster head. "Yeah, but this is your party, Noct. Didn't we plan it all? Wasn't this supposed to be fun?"

Yes. It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be time with his best friends, it was supposed to be a night they would all remember.

This was not how he planned that event. This was not what he wanted.

This was not right.

"I think I need to go somewhere for a while. I'll come back later." Noctis tried to pull off his scarf again but it stated firmly in place.

Prom nodded his head. "If anyone asks where you went, I'll tell them you-"

"Died. Just tell them I died."

It wasn't that far from the truth, either.

* * *

"He... I am sure it was just the alcohol."

"He... he shouldn't have."

"No, he shouldn't have. It was cruel and unnecessary. But, Ignis, he is a _child_."

Marilynn's words could have been a slap in the face coming from someone else, but from her they were of brevity and compassion. More than Noctis deserved at that very moment.

Ignis looked at Marilynn, at her frown, at the curl of brown hair she had been swatting at since they met at her front door, at the glittering ring on her finger. It was the finger most closely connected to the heart, or so it was said. Ignis knew it was tripe, because there was a little pendant one a cord of leather tied around her neck. Definitely not a flashy diamond worthy of her rank, but far more precious.

She was as much of a victim as he was, as much as Noctis was.

"He hurts and he lashed out. Maybe you forgot, but you did the same thing when you were younger."

He had known Marilynn for so long that the seasons and years bled into one another. Older than him by five years, she had been groomed for marriage since she was just a girl, long before they knew that he would be her suitor. She had known her role while Ignis had allowed himself to become infatuated with his future king.

When he had found out his father's plans so long ago, he had been furious. He had used his words like knives and left Marilynn-someone he had considered like his older sister-in the ruin. It had taken time to learn how to shove his feelings down, but before then he had been just as reckless as Noctis. And even now, knowing the false skin on his hands, he knew that it would only take a few well-aimed words to break him open and spill him across the marble floor.

Marilynn patted Ignis's arm, running her hand against his black cloak. "Ignis, you should let me go speak with him... maybe I could talk some sense...?"

Ignis shook his head as he eyed the party. There were costumes and live music played by the royal orchestra. He saw the Glaive sweeping the entrances, waiting for any moment where the peace would break. It would no doubt be someone drunk off some of the alcohol they snuck through the castle (King Regis no doubt turned his head with a slight shrug; the Glaive could handle a few drunken guests with no issue) who would begin the domino effect of the party.

Perhaps it was that Noctis disappeared the moment he greeted Ignis and Marilynn, or perhaps it had been destined to be dead in the water, Ignis was unsure. What he did know was that the collar of his costume bit into his neck and he was already prepared to leave.

"Ignis, I am going to go find Prince Noctis. Just let me see what I can do." Marilynn pressed her hands to her arms, and he could see that she was biting back a shiver.

"You know I can not stop you once you make your decision. But... Please be aware of his faults." It was true, he could have tried for a thousand years and Ignis knew that nothing would make her sway.

And yet when it came to her father, she was but a child nipping at his heels. She was her father's daughter, a daddy's girl who wanted to do nothing but please him... And Ignis would never dare to step out of his own father's will.

Marilynn tried to smile, but it looked far more like a grimace. She pulled at the lace blue shawl around her, and schooled her expression. "I think I will need as much luck as can be afforded. If you don't find me within a few hours, assume that I have been beheaded for treason." She did manage a small smile, but it only led to Ignis's frown deepening.

"He _is_ good, Marilynn. But he hurts, very much in a way that we all understand."

Marilynn paused. "Did you tell him of your feelings?"

Ignis looked away, and that seemed to be as telling as words.

"I thought as much. Perhaps things would be better off if the two of you dared to speak up about it. Things may not be perfect in my own relationship, but at least there is trust. At least... at least we both know what is going to happen."

Ah, yes, the Glaive. Ignis tried to think of the man's face, and considering the thousand times he had seen it before, he still found it difficult to remember what he looked like. The man always preferred his hood up and gaze down, either way.

It was easier to think of a man with no face than the true and terrifying reality of what he faced at that moment. It was by far easier to simply assume that the man was simply a shadow... dealing with Ignis's own emotions was enough; his box was full, and it was becoming more and more difficult to handle each addition to the box. Yet, part of Ignis wanted to ask about her Glaive. It wasn't fair that she dealt with Noctis when he couldn't take some of the pressure from her own shoulders.

"How is he handling the situation?"

Marilynn gave an inelegant shrug and pulled her hair in front of her face. "As well as can be expected." She didn't look at Ignis. "He doesn't come from our background. It is... it is harder for him." She played with the ends of her curled hair, before letting out a slight huff. "He thinks we should run away and elope. I told him it was absolutely absurd and he watched far too many movies as a child."

Marilynn turned to Ignis. "Maybe I should."

Ignis pushed up his glasses. He did not dare to respond.

She gave a small laugh as she uncrossed her arms and gave a slight wave. "If you find him... be gentle."

"And you."

Ignis watched her leave, her dress shimmering in the dull light of the candelabras decorating the walls for the occasion. She looked like a ghost in the light, a sway of fabric and a reminder of pasts.

Ignis looked around the small anti-chamber, noting the cold that blew through the open window. He wondered how far his voice could possibly travel through the open air, and fought back the desire to scream until something screamed back.

Noctis was... Noctis. It was unfair and cold, but it was the way Noctis hid his feelings since they were children. And Ignis knew that he would never take any piece away from him. He would never dare to change any single thing about the crown prince, for doing so would be a disservice.

Yet, in times like this, Ignis wished that there was a magical button he could push to make things right, to change the future and the past, to make it so that they were not put into the uncomfortable position they currently faced... or, if nothing, that they could exist in an alternate reality that would allow freedom. A reality where Ignis could feel the skin of his palms and know the reality from the fantasy.

Ignis took a few steps and rested his hand against the window sill, leaning out to take in a breath of the garden air. He could see nothing but flowers and lush green.

"Hey!"

And of course it would be Prompto to break the silence. It was always Prompto.

Ignis turned to look at the teenager, and sighed at the ridiculous monster costume. Of course it looked well-tailored and even the mask held a realistic gleam that set the hair on Ignis's arms standing on end, but it was the sheer panic on his face that truly worried Ignis.

"What did he do?"

"Oh, man! I tried to stop him-I swear if I knew how much he drank I swear I never would have left him alone. I figured he needed some alone time since he got so pissed off when he saw you and Countess Marilynn. I mean, I knew he was drunk-anyone could tell that!-but now he is hanging there and no one can get him to come down and I think the King disappeared and Cor is having a fit and Gladio-Gladio is gunna kill me! If he dies this is totally my fault!"

Ignis snapped around. "Dies?"

Prompto gulped.

"Explain your choice in words. ' _Dies_?'"

"It... it's nothing, just a mishap..."

Ignis turned and swiftly walked to the blond and grabbed Prompto by the front of his costume. He then threw the teenager against the wall, listening to his head hit the marble with a sickening crack.

"Ow, fuck! Iggy, that _hurt_!"

But Ignis was not in a forgiving mood-not with the word death so casually thrown around. "Explain yourself, now."

"He... he was upset, you know. So I told him to chill out and take a breather. But when I got back with some water he was gone! And then there were some Glaives screaming that Noctis had started warping himself up the walls, and now he's at the top of the Citadel and no one can get him to come down." Prompto reached up and patted at the back of his head, wincing. "That hurt. A lot." There was a streak of blood on stones behind his head.

Ignis did not let the younger man go. "Where is Gladio?"

Prompto looked down. "Trying to talk to him... It's kinda hard with him hanging so high up. No one can get up there."

Ignis finally let Prompto down and quickly reached into his pocket and smashed a potion onto Prompto's costume, watching as the magic quickly made its way across the boy's skin. He hadn't meant to hit his head as hard as he had.

But Prompto didn't have enough time to thank him as Ignis took off in a sprint through the Citadel. He followed the sounds of loud yelling, and it became only more and more obvious that something was not right the closer he got to the front corridor.

There was a small crowd at the base of the Citadel, an army of Glaives with their Kukri poised at the ready, prepared to use their weapons to scale up the side of the building to protect the crown prince.

And yes, there he was- propped up and sitting on a greatsword a hundred meters above the ground. Ignis knew that he was practicing his warping with Gladio but never had he gone so high. It was dangerous, and the King had on no uncertain terms banned the use of warping up until Noctis learned how to properly warp himself down. While he was born with the innate ability for warping, as any from the bloodline of Lucis, it did not mean he was any good at it.

Ignis looked at the panicked party goers, eyes glancing over until he found Gladio located where Noctis would land, should the teenager lose his grip or whenever his magical ability ran thin.

Gladio looked worried. It was not a comforting sight, particularly since Gladio did not show emotions other than hunger and annoyance, occasionally allowing his joyful nature to shine through. Yet, there he stood with his mouth drawn in a deep frown- deep enough to cause lines against his skin.

"What in Etro was he thinking?" Ignis asked as he pushed past one particularly obnoxious partygoer. Why hadn't the Glaive sent the people home? There was no way that the King would be happy with them come morning. This was their fault.

No.

This was his fault.

"Noctis!" Ignis yelled, but he knew there was no way his voice would reach up so high. "Come down here!"

"He can't hear you, Iggy. Shit."

Ignis looked to Gladio. "I _know_ that." Ignis took a deep breath in. "Where is Cor? He may be the only one able to get him down."

"He isn't here."

"Well, then someone should be finding him," Ignis snarled as he pulled off his cloak and threw it over his arm. "How is he still even up there? He should have already fallen... His magic still is precarious."

"His father gave him a Stamina Badge... There's a chance he's going to be stuck up there until he sobers up or he-"

"Falls," Ignis ended Gladio's thought. He stared up at the sword and the light blue tinge in the sky. "We cannot have that happen."

"Yeah, no shit," Gladio mumbled and grabbed at his head. "We need to get these people out of here."

Gladio was right. The last thing that Ignis needed was to have any further drama caused by drunk Noctis. They were going to have enough difficulty with keeping this all out of the newspapers in the morning. Yet, if he were honest with himself, Ignis did not care what happened in the morning as long as Noctis had his feet on the ground... preferably attached to the rest of his body.

"You do that, Gladio." Ignis looked up and slowly followed the line up, counting the windows. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen... "I will find a way to get him down."

Ignis felt Gladio's eyes on him, but he continued to count. There was not enough time to play about. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one...

Noctis wobbled on his sword and Ignis's stomach seemed to drop out of his stomach.

"Stay still, Noctis," Ignis murmured. It was fruitless to scream up to him, for Noctis was 54 floors up and it would take a God to reach his ears. Still, he hoped that Noctis would understand...

Ignis took off at a run, passing the dozen Glaives now quickly escorting people off the premises. He made his way down the corridors, finding people running toward the exit rather than following him. He managed well enough to the elevator, but the moment the doors closed Ignis found himself going slack. His entire body seemed to lose control and he found himself on the ground, his head slamming back against the wall.

The ascent up to the 54th floor of the East Tower was the longest crawl Ignis had ever experienced; the entire world could have flashed before his eyes faster than the time it took the elevator to climb up the citadel to where Noctis hung, suspended hundreds of feet above the ground. It was like the Gods themselves were mocking him; it was his fault, after all. He had been foolish and selfish with Noctis. He had tried to take more than what he deserved, tried to not break promises to himself or to his betrothed, yet only managed to hurt his prince in its stead.

He had known it would break him, yet he had done it anyway. What was loyal about breaking the one person on Eos he cared for?

Ignis pulled at his collar, feeling the tight black silk choking him. How was it possible that something so well-made, so soft and delicate, could feel like fire on his skin-a thousand ants crawling and biting.

Ignis slammed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, bringing one hand down against the marble below him.

He looked up at the slowly tickling numbers and found himself forcing his body up, nails digging against the marble, nails sliding in between the slabs giving him enough friction to catch on his nails, but nothing else.

He was not _weak_.

He wasn't.

This had nothing to do with weakness, this was giving himself over to emotions that he knew he had no right in feeling. This was selfishness, pure and simple.

And Ignis was nothing if not selfish.

He pushed the feeling down into his secret box of thoughts, the ones that the King would have him exiled for, the ones that would break both he and Noctis... It would break their kingdom.

The Kingdom. Lucis.

The empire of death, shrouded in black and hidden from the rest of the world... the only magic left in a world of machinery.

It was something drilled into their heads sine they were but children. The empire survived on the bones and blood of the Caelum royalty. For prosperity, a price had to be paid. It was different for each King and Queen of Lucis, but it was a tale that was told as myth but known as prophecy.

No one on the throne would have a happy reign. None. The Royal family was a doomed family, cursed with death and darkness, yet able to forge ahead through the misery and perpetual night.

King Regis had lost his wife to the Plague of the Stars. The King of the Katana, whose name had long been lost to history, also lost his young wife after the birth of their only son. The King of the Scepter, who led directly to the death of his Oracle and shuttered himself away, hiding from the world until the end of his days. The Queen of the Star, whose five daughters were slain at the hand of her husband, a Niflheim beast who had lost his mind and later his head, had been a story that Ignis had heard like other children listened to bedtime stories.

There were no happy stories that came from the line of Lucis.

And, Ignis knew, if it meant that he would give up their happiness to keep anything worse befalling his prince, then so be it. If he was forever bound to someone he could never truly love then he would do so happily as long as it meant that Noctis would live a long, fruitful life.

Was it worse to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

Ignis believed it was much worse to have loved and caused destruction than have bitten his tongue until it bled.

He managed to get himself to his knees, then to his feet, before the elevator reached the 54th floor, and he quickly straightened his black shirt, though for what reason he was still not quite sure. It was a comforting gesture, one that reminded him of better times. Times where the Crown Prince wasn't hanging from a greatsword high above his city, simply because Ignis had brought his fiancee to a party.

Ignis quickly rushed to the eastern bank of windows, running down past a dozen of them until he came to an area of the wall with the cracked stone and the scream of the wind.

"Noctis!" Ignis yelled over the howling of the wind, feeling the cold October wind against his face. If a hole in the stone was able to pierce through... just how did Noctis feel? The wind would only pick up the darker it became...

Ignis quickly turned to the closest window and searched for a latch, despite knowing that the only windows able to open stopped at the fifteenth floor, where the King's Throne room.

Ignis knew he should have been more careful, but he only managed to cover his fist with the sleeve of his shirt before driving it through the glass.

He regretted the decision immediately as a few shards made their way into his knuckles, and he quickly pulled back, looking around the empty hallway for something to help. This far up, Ignis knew, was only rooms filled with shelves upon shelves of old books and papers that none were willing to read and sort through. Each floor was dedicated to a different topic, a different letter, sometimes by color or the size of the script-the Rulers of Old had some semblance of rudimentary humor in torturing their distant descendants.

Ignis looked back to the window, wincing as he felt his hand give a throb. "Noctis?"

He heard something on the other side, though he was unsure if it was a laugh or cry.

Giving the room one more cursory glance, Ignis reached down and pulled off his shoe-the better thought he should have tried before using his fist- and used his heel to smack into the glass left in the window pane. He knocked out enough of it to safely stick his head out to check and yes- there he was, shivering and staring out over the whole of Insomnia, his black hair whipping around his head like a hurricane.

"Your Highness-Noctis-" Ignis called out, waiting for the other to hear him.

Ignis did not make any sudden movements, knowing the precarious edge Noctis found himself on. The last thing he wanted to do was make the skittish, drink prince lose balance. Now when he was so close... Ignis could almost touch him.

"Noctis!" Ignis called one more time.

Ignis was not sure if his voice had carried over to Noctis or if it was something else-perhaps the light of the buttons on his shirt or the sound of the breaking glass, but he could see Noctis's shivering face staring at him, lips blue. He had his arms wrapped around himself, the thin cotton of his shirt no match for the wind. His green scarf somehow managed to not fly away from him, which Ignis was glad for- he wasn't sure just how much alcohol Noctis had drank at the party and whether or not the black-haired boy would try to catch it. The last thing he wanted was Noctis falling because he was drunk and foolish.

Noctis's eyes seemed a little more sober than before-no doubt hanging off the side of the Citadel had done that to him. He tried to yell something, but the howling wind was

Ignis threw down his shoe, hearing it hit the stone somewhere behind him, and then placed the black cloak over the side of the broken window. He leaned out and let his hand reach out for Noctis's. It was not the hand covered in blood, because the last thing Ignis wanted was a slickness between their skin. If he dropped Noctis... Ignis swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Highness-Noctis. Please." He hoped that his face was able to convey the desperation and the fear, because watching Noctis wobble on the greatsword was making him so, so nervous. Just sitting there...

Noctis said something that was eaten once again by the wind, but he tentatively reached out his hand for Ignis.

When he felt Noctis's hand against his, Ignis tightened his grip as much as he could and braced his legs. He wished that he could yell something to Noctis, but knew that it was a waste of the breath he needed to pull the Prince up.

And it was terrifying, feeling those cold fingers under his, knowing how far the drop down was. 54 floors... There would be nothing left of Noctis if he let go.

Noctis seemed to be sober enough to realize the predicament, and when Ignis nodded his head sharply to Noct, the prince was able to mostly throw himself through the window. The greatsword shimmered blue and Ignis wrapped his other arm around Noctis's back. His other hand was stuck between them, clasped so tightly around Noctis's that he was sure there would be bruises come morning. He couldn't find it in himself to worry about having man-handled the prince, because he could smell Noctis's cologne and the alcohol on his costume.

He was warm and whole.

"Iggy- _fuck_ ," Noctis whispered into his ear as Ignis helped pull Noctis through the window. The cloak that helped protect Noctis's stomach ended up being kicked over the side. They both ended up on the ground in a heap of costume and limbs. Ignis couldn't have cared less, because other than the shock of the cold, Noctis was fine.

He was fine.

"What were you thinking-what in the heavens were you thinking?" Ignis let go of Noctis's wrist and gripped the prince's face between his fingers, watching his blood paint red against Noctis's cheek. "You could have- you could have fallen."

 _ **You could have died.**_

But Ignis could barely think the words, let alone voice them.

"I- I ran into her. I was just... I was so angry," Noctis murmured, his voice shaking, though the adrenaline or cold Ignis wasn't sure. "I just wanted to get away from her."

Marilynn.

"It's my fault, Noctis. I allowed her to try to find you. I thought that she would be able to talk to you about..."

About the pain of obligation. The promise of their families.

The fate written in the stars.

But Noctis only stared at him, his blue eyes wide. "Iggy-Ignis. You're... you're..."

Oh, the blood. Of course Noctis would realize the blood on his hand that was now stained against his cheek. It was clumsy, foolish of Ignis to touch the prince so intimately, to allow his blood to touch the Prince's skin.

Yet that didn't seem to be the issue as Noctis leaned close and he tentatively ran his fingers across Ignis's cheeks.

He hadn't even realized the tears staining his own face.

Noctis leaned close and let his lips rest on his left cheek, then allowed his mouth to tickle against Ignis's skin, crossing the bridge of his nose and down his right cheek. Ignis should have stopped him; he knew that this was wrong, that this was going to far. If they went down this rabbit hole there would be no returning to what was... he had fought so much against it, yet...

When Noctis pressed his lips against Ignis's, he allowed himself to be selfish. All he could do was breathe in the scent of alcohol and the deep musk that Ignis knew as only Noctis.

Noctis was drunk, this was wrong. He needed to pull away.

He was getting married.

Yet Ignis found his hand reaching into the prince's midnight black hair. It hurt when some of his hair gel got into the cuts on his palm, but he couldn't care about pain of the blood on their faces when Noctis's mouth was pressed against his. He had dreamed of this moment for years, since he first noticed the way Noctis's hair seemed to frame his head like a halo, how the drop in his voice when he hit puberty made him sound so much more like a prince, more like a king. It was in the way he moved, in the way the air moved and bent to his will. Noctis was the stars shooting through the sky, and Ignis could not deny it.

He had loved the prince, loved him with every fiber of his being. He had loved Noctis since they were just children, and he loved Noctis even more, now.

Time had given him the Prince, and time would give him the king.

And in that moment, their mouths and tongues dancing against one another, Ignis could not mourn Noctis's fate, because he knew what it was. Ignis would marry Marilynn and Noctis would marry someone to bear him Lucian sons. And while the pain was great, he hadn never realized until that moment just how much of his spirit had been missing

When they broke for air, Ignis pulled Noctis's face into his shoulder, letting his nose rest against the prince's ear.

"I'm sorry. Please, Noctis, please forgive me."

And for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, Ignis did not lock his feelings into his secret box.

"No... It's me, Iggy. I should apologize."

But Ignis did not want to hear Noctis's apology, and he found himself leaning forward again to kiss Noctis. It felt... it felt right.

* * *

King Regis had been furious after finding Noctis and Ignis later, after Ignis had cleaned most of the blood off the boy's face. He had hoped there would be enough time to sneak Noct into his old bedroom chambers before the King found them, but King Regis, Cor, and Clarus found them faster than Ignis would have preferred... and certainly more than Noctis would have preferred.

The King thanked Ignis, though for what Ignis was unsure... saving the Prince from falling to his death, no doubt. But Ignis wondered if the King could see the guilt written upon his face, branded into the skin on his forehead. He and Noctis, they had gone further than they should have. The feelings between them, it was not right for an advisor to fall in love with the Crown Prince... and it was worse that Noctis has... Noctis loved him, too.

And Ignis knew, Ignis had known, but having their lips meet in the frenzy of life and emotion... it had sealed his fate.

There was no way to back-peddle, to forget that feeling of warmth on him, and he wanted more. Like a blind man seeing colors for the first time, Ignis knew what he always had known-that accepting those feelings he had hidden away would change things. He would not be able to hide them again.

It was the worst thing they could have done, and Ignis knew that. He was reckless and destructive and he had cursed both of them, for loving and losing was worse than never having loved. The pain he knew would come in waves later, and he would have to live with the consequences of the night...

But he was willing to do it.

He was willing to try.

* * *

 **Please review!**


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